


Ice

by Eleana_Lee



Series: Sherlock Drabbles [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, impromptu skating, in which John thinks the world is terribly unfair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:12:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleana_Lee/pseuds/Eleana_Lee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock was a mystery—a contradiction.  He was tall, lanky and bony, all sharp angles and no rounded edges, yet he had the air of grace and finesse in everything he did. And John thought it was terribly unfair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a prompt fill. Supposed to be a 221B drabble, but my mind kind of ran away on its own with it, so... yeah. Anyway, hope you guys like it.

Sherlock was a mystery—a contradiction.  He was tall, lanky and bony, all sharp angles and no rounded edges, yet he had the air of grace and finesse in everything he did.  His movements were measured, accurate, and precise.  He exerted just enough force to do an action to make it seem effortless and he never had to do the same action twice in succession because he failed the first time.  He probably even stumbled gracefully when he first learned to walk as an infant.

John decided that it was really, _really_ unfair.

He first realised it as he watched Sherlock play the violin.  Sherlock was standing by the window, playing a short, sweet tune with an unfamiliar sombre expression on his face.  His fingers flew up and down the fingerboard while the other hand slid the bow up and down, and although John had watched more than a fair amount of violinists before, no one had come close to exhibiting the amount of finesse Sherlock was.

He started watching the taller man since then; when he was eating, experimenting, deducing, and even _hailing a cab_.  John thought it was ridiculous how Sherlock managed to still look collected and graceful even when he was flailing an arm.

The imaginary camel that was John’s mind finally broke its back during a winter day.  They were chasing after a wanted criminal across a frozen lake, and despite their previous agreement of not giggling at crime scenes and during chases, John couldn’t help himself but burst out laughing when the criminal slipped on the ice and fell hard on his arse.

He stopped laughing when he did the same the moment he stepped on the ice.  At the rate he was going, his psychosomatic limp would become the real thing pretty soon.

Sherlock stepped onto the ice and _glided_ across the surface towards the criminal.  He kept the criminal in place with John’s help after he managed to slide towards them (while successfully falling on his back another five times; not that he was _counting_ ) and waited for Lestrade to arrive so he could arrest the criminal and put him into custody.

It was Donovan who stepped onto the frozen lake to retrieve the criminal because she used to do a lot of ice skating when she was a teenage girl.  Lestrade chose to just wait by the side, and John wished he had thought to do the same.

He made his way back to the bank with the help of a clearly amused Sherlock, only managing to fall once on the trip back, but that fall was enough to confirm John’s theory of Sherlock stumbling gracefully even as an infant.  No one should be able to practically fall flat on their face and still look graceful.

Where was the _justice_ in that?

John was torn between getting angry and laughing hysterically at the unfairness of it all when Sherlock admitted that that was the first time he skated on ice.  If Sherlock looked worried for his mental state as he went for the hysterical laughter, he pointedly ignored it.


End file.
